Because they had become more than painter and subject. Although some would argue not. Painters and their muses were an age-old tradition. Just not one she’d ever been a part of. Muse hadn’t been a role she’d been interested in, even it had been proposed to her once. But here it was reversed. Julius was the muse.
However, she wasn’t unreasonable like many painters were and insisted that her art depended on a muse, and she couldn’t possibly live happily without him.
Their entanglement had come to an end. It had been sweet, even perfect. Probably because their association was short and sweet. It had broken some of Julius’ barriers and hopefully he now saw that locking himself away in his study wasn’t a way to live his life. Behind those barriers, even those of arrogance and disregard, he really was a sweet man. A generous lover—one she would never forget.
But now she had to get back to her life. Brighton awaited and she was looking forward to working unencumbered of needing to finish a commission. Being here had inspired her, and now she was going to take that inspiration home and let it fly.
Packing her toiletries away, she looked around the room. There was nothing left to pack into her personal trunk, primarily because she hadn’t brought much with her. Her painting materials trunk was already packed away.
As excited as she was, going home came with its problems—particularly finding new rooms. A long tiring journey home, and no home to go to. A minor inconvenience. Not that she had a choice. What would she do, stay here and be Julius’ mistress? No, thank you. There would likely be some woman who would want nothing more than that, but it wasn’t for her.
Saying that, she really hoped he wouldn’t go back to the isolation she’d found him in. It would be an utter shame, because he had so much to give to someone set to receive it. Ideally someone who would inspire him to marry again. Atticus would have siblings and this house would be lively again. Maybe Octavia and Eliza needed to press him a little.
Closing the trunk, she looked around her room one last time. It was time to leave. If she didn’t, there might be a threat she’d become too attached, she wouldn’t want to leave, and that was something she wished to avoid. She liked her life in Brighton and she needed to get back to it before heart strings entangled her. That was the true threat of men—heartstrings.
Looking out the window, she saw that the carriage was prepared and waiting. It was time to go, and the last thing anyone needed was a drawn-out parting. Inhaling deeply, she steeled herself and left the room.
Both Julius and Atticus were downstairs when she got there. The boy still had that reserve around his father, but hopefully that would soften if Julius made the effort. Jane smiled at him. “Time to go,” she said. “There are paintings waiting for my return.”
The boy was awkwardly silent and didn’t know what to say. “They’ll be happy to see you,” he finally said.
“I hope you have a lovely summer when it comes, and get to spend some time with your cousins.”
A momentary smile passed his lips, then he took her hand and bowed very formally like he’d been trained to do.
“And don’t stop drawing. It will be a joy that will serve you for many years.” Unfortunately, most children lost their enthusiasm for drawing as they got a bit older.
With a quick stroke of his head, which was much too familiar, she said goodbye.
“Now, run along, Atticus,” Julius said and the boy complied. There was silence between them for a moment. “I suppose it’s time to go.”
“Yes, the portrait is finished.”
“I haven’t decided where to hang it yet.”
“Some say the painting chooses where it wants to be,” she said.
“Do they? An odd notion.”
Ever the practical one, she thought with a smile. “Goodbye, Julius. It’s been delightful coming to stay here with you, and Atticus, of course.”
“I suppose the excitement of Brighton draws you back,” he said. It was true.
“It is the way with commissions, they start, then finish. Thank you for the carriage taking me to the train station.”
There was an awkwardness again, as if there was something he wished to say but couldn’t find the words for. “It has been a pleasure to have you here.” And like he sometimes did, he fell back on polite etiquette. It had an answer even for this situation.
This really was awkward. It hadn’t been this awkward between them since she’d first arrived. Now she didn’t know what to say, and he was clearly uncomfortable. “I suppose I’d better go. Don’t want to miss the train.” With a tight smile, she made to step away. This discomfort hadn’t been something she’d expected, but then parting from someone you’d been so privately linked with was never easy.
Mr. Fuller came to the door and he had her coat draped over his arm, and he assisted her in putting it on. “Are you ready, Miss Brightly?”
“Mr. Fuller,” Julius said. “If you would give us a moment.” Clearly there was something more Julius wished to say.
Jane returned her attention to Julius as Mr. Fuller took himself outside.
“You could stay,” he said, the words painfully strained.
Jane blinked for a moment. “I really can’t,” she finally said. “It is, of course, a wonderful offer, but not one for me. I’m going in an entirely different direction.”
“Of course,” Julius said, looking embarrassed as he took a step back. It was nothing to be embarrassed about.
“I am honored, truly. You would make a wonderful partner, husband even, but I’m not the right person. My life, my art, is elsewhere. You do understand?”
He was silent for
